


Je t'aime

by DanTheExplodingCreeper



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanTheExplodingCreeper/pseuds/DanTheExplodingCreeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The countries had began to worry and decided to visit the missing country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Je t'aime

The other countries were worried. The two seats were empty. One has been for a long time, probably about four months now. The other, surprisingly empty. It had been filled until this past month. Some people thought he was just sick, the others thought he had been lazy. Today though, it became very worrisome.  
“Fuck this, I’m going to go see him” America slammed down his hands as he stood, walking at a fast pace to the door  
“S-same here” Canada followed  
The other countries looked to Germany, the host for this meeting. Germany nodded, “Ja, lets go” 

Once at his door, Canada unlocked it with the key he had given him. He slipped in and looked around, “Come on” he whispered. The countries filled into the living room, looking around. “Being who he is, I would have expected a bit more to his living room…heck his whole house…” America looked around, frowning deeply.  
“Maybe its hard for him to since he’s been gone, Da?” Russia looked over, “Very True” Japan replied  
America sighed softly, “Come on Bro, lets go see him” Canada nodded and followed him up the stairs. Canada knocked softly on the door, “Papa, are you in there?” “L-leave me a-alone Canada… s'il vous plaît” a voice croaked back. “NO dude! We are not leaving until your out and better!” “Zhe only thing that will ‘elp me is Angleterre” The brothers sighed. “I know papa…but Father is g-gone… you need to let go and move on… s'il vous plaît papa” “Non! I can’t!” he cried back  
America sighed softly and opened the door slightly, peering in. He saw France curled up on the bed, clutching a pillow. His hair didn’t look as shiny as usual and he guessed that he had grown more stubble and his eyes were dull. America walked in, Canada following. Canada hurried over to France and sat down next to him, hugging him gently. France broke out into a sob, turning over and clinging to Canada. Canada held and rubbed France’s back, humming softly. 

After awhile of crying, France was sitting up, wiping away a few stray tears. Canada was frowning slightly, his hand holding France’s free hand. “Papa?” “O-oui cher?” “What happened to Father?” “Yeah..what happened to Dad…” America asked, sitting next to Canada.  
“Well…”

~4 months ago~

England knew he wasn’t acting like his usual self. He would be more tired than usual, sleeping in when he had important things to do. He wouldn’t be in the mood for scones or tea, instead eating small bites of whatever was put in front of him and drinking more scotch than usual. He wouldn’t mind France hugging him or kissing his cheek, nor call him names anymore.  
Then one night, his mind wondered off to a thought, that he didn’t like to much. ‘How would the world be if I wasn’t here? America would be happier that I wasn’t always on his back for things, France could have someone who doesn’t call him names or always tries to pick a fight, My colonies would have their wish granted…’ he sighed softly as he slipped into bed, forgetting about what he thought for now.  
Days later he finally snapped. His mind continuously thinking of death and how much it would take away the pain. So he climbed up onto a chair, wrapping his neck around the rope hole. He pinned the note to his black sweater and sniffed slightly.  
“I love you Francis. America take care of your brother and Romania for me. Canada stay safe and comfort France for me. Goodbye…” was written  
He then prayed softly and kicked down the chair. At first he struggled, but relaxed. His breath started to flail, his face draining of color.  
“Je t'aime F-francis” he let out as his eyes closed

 

Later that night France came home from work, humming softly. “Angletrre? I’m ‘ome ma cheri!” he called, no answer. He furrowed his eye brows and looked in the kitchen. Nope. He looked in the office and living room. Nope. He walked up the stairs, “Arthur?” he called. He sighed softly and opened their bedroom door, “Arthur I kn-“ he noticed. His eyes widened, tears pricking in the corners. “Angletrre!” he yelled, running over and picking him up from the rope, falling to his knees, cradling his body, rocking. “Non…non…Arthur…wake up! You can’t be dead! Stop playing Arthur! This isn’t funny!” he cried as he held his face, eyes looking for any life possible.  
He cried out again as he realized it was no joke. He wiped away a tear and noticed the note. He read it and started crying again, his whole body shaking. He buried his face into his cold chest and sobbed, muttering in French, “Je t'aime, Je t'aime, Je t'aime Angletrre”

~end~

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SORRY FOR CREATING THIS MESS OF FEELS  
> I AM ALSO SORRY IF I MADE YOU CRY  
> I LOVE YOU ;-;


End file.
